


This is Not a Gothic Romance (and Clint is Not Heathcliff)

by shinykari (meinterrupted)



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: AO3 Fundraiser Auction, Clint Barton is kind of an idiot, Clint Feels, Cunnilingus, Darcy Lewis is awesome, Darcy is the fandom bicycle and I love it, Eavesdropping, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Insecure Clint, Kate Bishop is awesome, Safer Sex, Women Being Awesome, but that's why we love him, clint loves it too, gratuitous reference to English literature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 01:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meinterrupted/pseuds/shinykari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton is an idiot. This isn't news to Darcy. What <em>is<em> new is waking up in his bed and hearing him talking to another woman in the other room.</em></em></p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Not a Gothic Romance (and Clint is Not Heathcliff)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skandrae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skandrae/gifts).



> For some reason, skandrae decided that my writing was worth actualfax money (why? idk), and donated a chunk of change to the OTW in return for me writing this. All she requested was Clint and Darcy getting down and dirty, which they do, but I also threw in Kate (because she's great) and also banter (because banter is great). And I'm extra glad I got it done today because she's having an extra shitty day, so I hope this is what you wanted, babe!
> 
> Thank you to inkandash and daroos for beta-duty!

Darcy swam toward consciousness slowly, the pleasant ache between her legs and the purple sheets telling her all she needed to know about where she was and how she got there. Clint's bed was soft and comfortable, and she flopped over onto her stomach and buried her face into the pillow on his side. It was still slightly warm; Clint must have woken up recently. She hoped he was still here, because it was always slightly weird for her to be in his apartment alone, even though it wouldn't be the first time. If she was honest with herself, it probably wouldn't be the last, either.

She clenched her teeth against the wave of self-recrimination and sighed. When a few very memorable nights in New Mexico had first led to a weekly friends-with-benefits situation once she'd followed Jane to New York, it had seemed like a fantastic idea. Clint was good-looking and hilarious, with a gorgeously muscled body and the flexibility of an acrobat, which made the sex mind-blowing. But Darcy hadn't counted on him being amazingly sweet and more than a little broken under his tough exterior, and now, three months into whatever this was, she found herself falling for Clint Barton.

Of course, telling him that wasn't high on her list of priorities. Watching Jane fret whenever Thor was away had soured Darcy on the whole 'dating a superhero' thing pretty early on, and Clint was far more fragile than any Asgardian. He came back from most missions bruised and bloody, his tanned skin gathering new scars with each outing as an Avenger. And that didn't even take into account the number of women who camped outside the Tower for the chance to meet and fuck an Avenger. Clint didn't have as many groupies as Steve or Tony, but he was no slouch. Darcy was just a lab monkey; what could she offer him?

The sound of voices from the kitchen dragged her out of her pity party and back into the present. Clint's voice was a low, indistinct rumble--a clear sign he hadn't yet had his requisite two cups of coffee--while the other was high and pretty, obviously a woman's. Darcy turned over slowly and quietly, pulled the sheet up over her naked breasts, and sat up.

"...I'm just saying, Clint, it's not right."

"Yeah, well, what do you know?" Clint grumped. There was a short pause before he cursed. "Damn it, this is hot!"

The girl laughed. "It's coffee, dummy. It's supposed to be."

"It's not this hot when I make it," he said, the scrape of chair legs on the kitchen tile making Darcy wince. "I told you to call before you come over."

"What, still keeping me a secret?" Darcy's heart seized in her chest at the long pause after that question, and the girl's dejected, "Yeah, I thought so."

"You're not a secret, Katie-Kate," Clint said, sighing. "I'm just trying to protect you."

"From what?" Darcy squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears from slipping out. She wasn't just Kate, or Katie--she was Katie-Kate. Fucking hell.

"From a lot of stuff, okay?" He sighed audibly, and Darcy could picture him rubbing his temple like he tended to do when frustrated. "You're so young--"

"I'm 18, Clint, I'm not a baby."

"No, you're not, but... Are you sure this is the road you want to go down? Are you positive? Because once you step on this road, there's no going back," he said, his voice low and intense. "You can retire, sure, move on, have a family, but there's always going to be that danger that someone from your past is going to find you out. Is this a risk you're willing to take?"

Katie-Kate huffed out a laugh. "Clint, you think I don't know that? What do you think I've been doing for the last two years, huh? I'm not going to stop doing this just because I don't have an official okay from the A-Team. And besides," she added, dropping her voice to just above a whisper, "there's danger everywhere. I'd rather be prepared for it, and have back-up."

Clint didn't say anything right away, instead, he pushed the chair back and started pacing, the rhythmic slap of his bare feet on the tile easing Darcy's worries. It didn't sound like Katie was Clint's secret girlfriend, it sounded more like she was a baby superhero. She let out a long, soft sigh of relief.

"I can't convince you to quit, can I?" Clint asked, grudging acceptance clear in his voice.

"Nope."

"All right, then. I'll talk to Coulson, see if--Ah! Damn it, Kate, stop it, I'm not a hugger, you weirdo, okay okay, whatever. It's not going to be all fun and games, you know. There'll be, like, training and workouts, and missions you don't want to go on. And you'll have to deal with people who aren't so nice as me on a regular basis."

The girl's eyeroll was obvious, even to Darcy, who still hadn't set eyes on her. "I know that, Hawkeye. And here I thought I was going to have to blackmail you to get you to do what I wanted."

"Blackmail? You've got nothin' on me," Clint shot back, as Darcy flopped back onto the pillow, suddenly exhausted.

"Don't I? I know _things_ about you, Clint Barton, lots of things. Embarrassing things that maybe a certain pretty coworker would love to hear about--or better yet, see pictures of."

"You wouldn't," Clint hissed. "And you told me you deleted those pictures, anyway."

"Oh, did I?" Kate asked, her voice all mock-innocence. Darcy sat back up, her interest piqued. "Hmmm, I must have been talking about some other photos. Not ones of--" Her next words were muffled, probably by Clint's hand, if Darcy wasn't mistaken.

"I really like her, okay, Kate? A lot. Just... Let me tell her that before you go trying to scare her off," he said.

"You haven't told her yet?" Her tone was incredulous. "Jesus, and I thought I was emotionally repressed. You two have been doing this for how long now?"

"Since, uh, New Mexico," he admitted, sheepishly. He was probably rubbing the back of his neck and refusing to meet Kate's eyes. "But she's way too good for me. I figure pretty soon she'll drop me for someone younger and less, you know, _me_. No need to complicate that for her."

For a moment, Darcy couldn't really believe what she was hearing. Clint thought _she_ was too good for _him_? He was the freaking gorgeous superhero; she was just Jane's lab assistant. Sure, she had a great rack and a quick mind, and she _did_ tase a god that one time, but she wasn't a genius like Jane and Betty, or as gorgeous and competent as Pepper, or able to take down a man twice her size with a ballpoint pen like Natasha and Assistant Director Hill could. She was just Darcy Lewis, regular girl.

"Clint, I know I've said this before," Kate said, interrupting Darcy's train of thought, "and I'm sure I'll tell you again, but you are an _idiot_. No, don't even try to argue with me. If I thought it would do any good, I would slap you, but considering how many times you've been hit over the head in your life, I'm guessing that won't help. Or maybe that's the root of your problem: your brains are half-scrambled already."

Before Clint could answer, Darcy was out of the bed, sheet wrapped, toga-style, around her naked body. "You should listen to the lady, Clint," she said, grinning as he startled visibly, eyes wide as he turned to look at her. "She seems to have a good head on her shoulders."

Kate grinned. "You must be Darcy. I've heard a lot about you from this one," she said, jerking a thumb at Clint, who still hadn't quite recovered. "I'm Kate Bishop, and it's fantastic to finally meet you." Kate's dark hair was pulled up in a ponytail, strands falling from her hairline to frame her face. She was very pretty, with high cheekbones and pouty lips, but her blue eyes were calculating as she sized Darcy up. 

Darcy walked across the room, and offered Kate the hand that wasn't currently holding up the sheet. They shook, and Darcy could feel callouses in the same places on her fingers that Clint had them. "Archer?" she asked, arching a brow.

Kate nodded, her grin widening. "Among other things," she said.

"Well, Kate, as much as I would love to sit and chat about all the ways Clint is an idiot--"

"Hey!" he protested, finally finding his voice.

"--it seems I haven't made my feelings clear enough for this one," she continued, tilting her head toward Clint. "So I'm going to drag him into the bedroom and ravish him, and you and I are going to have coffee later. And bring those pictures. Now you," she said to Clint, emphasizing the word by grabbing hold of the hem of his teeshirt and tugging, "come with me. Apparently we need to talk."

"That's my cue," Kate said, winking at Darcy and making her way to the door. "Have good sex!" she called out, smirking as she ducked into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

"I have a better idea of what to do with my mouth," Clint said, voice low as he threaded his fingers through Darcy's bed-mussed hair and tilted her face toward his. "It involves you, the bed, and a whole lot of screaming my name," he elaborated, as if Darcy didn't already know.

His lips were warm against her own as he leaned in to kiss her, and he tasted faintly of coffee and toothpaste. Darcy hummed happily and let go of the sheet in order to wrap her arms around his neck to get a better angle as Clint licked his way into her mouth. Her now-bare nipples rubbed against the soft cotton of his tee shirt, and they hardened quickly in the cool air of the apartment. Clint continued to kiss her as he backed her toward the bed, his stubble rough on her chin. 

The back of her legs bumped up against the mattress, but before he could bear down and spread her out like he so obviously wanted to, Darcy pulled away. "I said we needed to talk, Clint," she murmured, punctuating each word with a soft kiss.

Clint groaned and flopped his head back to stare vacantly at the ceiling, leaving his throat bare and open. Not one to pass up this opportunity, Darcy leaned in and nipped at the skin under his jaw with just enough pressure to get his attention without actually hurting him.

"Jesus, you act like this is torture," Darcy said, softening the snark in her words by kissing the spot she'd just bitten and scratching her nails gently against Clint's scalp, an act that never failed to make him purr.

"You're going to make me talk about _feelings_ ," he whined. "I don't do feelings very well." Though his tone was light and joking, Darcy could hear the truth in his words, and the fear he did his best to hide from everyone. She sighed and hugged him close, leaning in and nuzzling her nose into the curve of his neck. After a tense moment, Clint's arms came around her, and he rested his cheek on the top of her head.

"Clint, I like you," she began slowly, searching for the right words, the ones that would make her point without sending him running scared. "I like you _a lot_. I might..." She swallowed and closed her eyes, breathing in his scent. "I might even love you," she whispered. Darcy could hear his heartbeat speed up as his arms flexed unintentionally around her middle, and she babbled on before she lost her nerve. "I don't know where you got this stupid idea that I'm just, I don't know, passing the time with you while I look for someone better, but you can erase that right out of your head. This is real for me." She swallowed and managed to look up, meeting his gorgeous grey-green eyes. "Is it... is it real for you, too?"

"God, Darcy," he breathed, his voice rough with emotion. "It's real for me too, babe. It's so real it scares me. I-- fuck." Clint looked away even as he pulled her tighter against him. "I screw up sometimes. A lot of the time, actually," he admitted, and Darcy couldn't help the strangled little laugh that bubbled up at that. "I know I'm gonna fuck up with you, and Darcy--"

"Shhhh," she said, pressing a finger to his lips. "I get it. We'll just take this a step at a time, okay?"

"Okay," Clint said, finally meeting her gaze again, his cocky smirk firmly back in place. "Now can we stop talking about feelings so I can fuck you into the mattress?"

"I thought you'd never ask," she said with a giggle. Clint growled and leaned down to wrap his strong hands around the back of her thighs, levering her feet off the ground just enough to tip her back onto the bed. Darcy shrieked as he followed her down, covering her naked body with his and silencing her with his mouth. The kiss was fierce, less a sweet declaration of love and more a claim. She whimpered as he used his teeth on her lips as one hand slid down to palm her thigh while the other tangled in her hair. When her lips were tingling, he moved on to attack her neck, sucking a bruise into the pale skin of her throat and causing her to buck up against him.

"You like that, huh?" he murmured, his voice muffled against her skin. "I'll have to remember that for the future." Before Darcy could respond, he slid farther down her body to take her left nipple in his mouth, using his tongue and lips to tease it to hardness. While Darcy wriggled happily under his mouth, he untangled his hand from her hair to slide it down and play with her other tit. The rough callous on the pads of his fingers felt incredible against her sensitive skin as he cupped its full weight. Clint scraped his teeth along the top and bottom of the nipple in his mouth at the same time he moved his hand slowly upward to palm her breast. His strong fingers were incredibly gentle as he kneaded the whole of it, paying special attention to the dark ring of her areola. Clint was the only man she'd been with that didn't seem either intimidated or overly enthusiastic about her chest; to him it was just another part of her body. It was one of the many reasons she'd found herself falling for him.

She was forcibly jerked back to the present when Clint bit down on the soft skin of her stomach. Before she could protest, he soothed the hurt with his tongue, whispering how gorgeous she was as he continued his journey farther south. He spread her thighs with his hands, fingers tracing the seam where her legs met her body. With his thumbs, he spread her lips wide, exposing her fully, and leaned in, his breath hot against her damp curls. Darcy trembled with anticipation, her body tense as one of Clint's bowstrings. She clenched her teeth to keep from crying out when he licked a long, slow stripe from her entrance up to her clit, then circled the little nub with the tip of his tongue.

Clint began to touch and lick her, slow, steady movements that helped her relax even as they ratcheted her arousal higher. He paid loving attention to the whole of her cunt, licking up the seam of her labia and sliding first one finger, then two, inside her. Her thighs began to tremble with her oncoming orgasm, and she could vaguely hear her own voice, begging and babbling. Clint's amused chuckle vibrated through her whole body, but he took pity on her and attacked her clit with renewed vigor.

Her orgasm rocketed through her body with a force that surprised her, and she gasped Clint's name and bucked up against him. His forearm came down to pin her hips to the bed, holding her still and licking her through the aftershocks, turning the tremors into full-blown, if less intense, orgasms of their own. Darcy let the pleasure roll through her until her over-sensitive clit begged for mercy, and she reached down to slide her fingers through Clint's short hair. He grinned up at her from between her legs, his face shiny and wet with her juices, his blue eyes dark with desire. "Mmm, breakfast of champions," he said, voice rough.

"Oh my god, you didn't just make that joke, you fucker," Darcy whined, her own voice scratchy. She tugged him up her body until his stupid face was close enough to kiss. "You're an idiot," she said, her words quiet against his lips.

"So I've been told, repeatedly, and recently," he replied in between soft, sweet kisses. He was still wearing his tee shirt and a pair of loose cotton pajama pants, but she could feel the heat of his skin and the bulge of his arousal. "I hope that's not a deal-breaker for you," he said, rolling to his side and propping his head up on one arm.

"Definitely not," she said, edging closer and sliding her hand under the hem of his shirt and up toward his muscular chest. Clint licked his lips as her fingers trailed through the sparse hair there, then traced the line of an old scar toward one flat nipple. She tweaked it lightly, drawing a short gasp from his throat, before backtracking down his hard stomach, palm flat against the skin. Clint grumbled something and ripped his shirt off in one swift movement, tossing it behind him carelessly. 

Laughing, Darcy resumed her slow, teasing quest, sliding her fingers under the elastic of his pants and into the coarse hair beneath. He sucked in a sharp breath when she wrapped her hand around his cock, stroking him to full hardness. She met his eyes as she rubbed the pad of her thumb over the head, licking her lips deliberately. He swallowed hard. "God you're so gorgeous," he said. "Gorgeous and perfect."

Her face flushed at the rough sincerity in his voice. "Clint--"

He silenced her with a kiss, rolling her onto her back and pinning her beneath his weight before she could protest. His mouth was hot and demanding, and she could still taste herself as his tongue slid against hers. He did his best to wriggle out of his pants and grab a condom from the bedside table without breaking the kiss, causing Darcy to giggle at his unusual lack of coordination. When he finally managed to kick them off his feet, he nipped her bottom lip in retaliation and settled himself in the cradle of her thighs, holding the foil packet above her head. "Superhero or no," she said, "you're going to have to move to put that thing on."

"Har har," he said, and raised up on his knees to roll the condom on. Darcy let her gaze rove over his naked body, licking her lips as she traced the line of hair that led downward from his navel. His cock was shorter than average, but thick and arrow-straight, jutting straight out from a thatch of dark blond pubic hair. As soon as it was on, he laid back down, covering her with his body.

Instead of working his way inside her, Clint rutted against her, rubbing her clit with the head of his cock. That sent sparks of pleasure through her body, and she arched up, unsure if she was trying to get closer or farther away. He hummed happily and buried his face in her neck, the slow motion of his hips dragging his dick up and down the length of her slit. Darcy dug her fingernails into his shoulders and levered her own hips up, doing her best to impale herself on his cock. "Ugh, you asshole," she muttered.

His amusement vibrated through his chest and into hers. "Is this pick-on-Clint day or something?" he teased, pulling back so that their only point of contact was the very tip of his cock.

"I hate you sometimes, you know," she said, lifting her legs and squeezing his sides between her thighs. Using a move that Natasha had taught her--though in much less naked circumstances--she levered Clint over and onto his back, with her on top. 

He laughed and settled his hands on her thighs, thumbs rubbing circles on her skin. Darcy wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out, silencing his laughter by reaching between them to squeeze his cock. "Now who's the tease?" he gasped.

"Still you," she said, holding his cock in place as she slowly sunk down on it, eyes closed with pleasure. His fingers dug into the soft skin of her thighs as she bottomed out, wriggling a little to find the best position. "Ah, there it is," she breathed. Clint hummed his agreement as she started to move, fucking herself slowly on his cock. After a few lazy moments, she felt him tensing underneath her, like he was about to flip them and take control, so she leaned back, arching her spine and bracing her hands against his thighs. She knew the position showed off her tits beautifully, but more than that, it gave her better leverage. She started riding him in earnest, gasping wordlessly as his cock rubbed against her g-spot.

"God, Darcy," Clint said, face flushed and lips wet. "You're amazing, fuck, so beautiful and smart." He continued to babble, telling her how perfect and wonderful she was, as Darcy felt her orgasm getting closer and closer.

"I need, I need," she mumbled, not sure what she was asking for, but knowing that Clint would.

"I got you, baby, I got you," he said, and suddenly his thumb was circling her clit and she was coming hard, her whole body alight with pleasure. Her inner muscles clamped down on his cock, putting even more pressure on her g-spot, and Darcy gasped out Clint's name. He grunted what might have been a laugh as he flipped them over, spread her legs with his thighs, and slid back into her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close as the last ripples of her orgasm flowed through her, and after a few hard thrusts, Clint came himself, face buried in her neck.

Darcy petted his damp hair as he rode out his orgasm, thrusting jerkily and panting against her skin. She wrapped her legs around his waist to keep him from rolling off, reveling in the feel of his cock softening inside her. After a moment, he sighed. "Babe, I gotta," he said, pulling away.

"I know," she pouted, but lowered her legs. She whimpered as he pulled out, one hand around the base of the condom to keep it in place. Clint went up on his knees and leaned back on his heels to get rid of the condom, tying it off and tossing it carelessly toward the wastebasket in the corner of the room. It dropped in without even touching the sides--of course--and he flopped over onto his back next to Darcy. She rolled her eyes at his over-dramatic sigh and curled up against him, one leg thrown over his thighs.

Clint smiled and pulled her closer, threading his fingers through her sex-mussed hair as she traced abstract designs on his chest. "So--" he began, then stopped, looking away.

Darcy leaned up to press a kiss to his stubbly jaw. "Clint, shh. I get it."

He sighed in relief and hugged her tighter, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. "Okay. Okay," he repeated, almost to himself. "I'm gonna fuck up, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"But I'll try not to."

"I know that too," she whispered.

They lay in silence for a few moments. Then, "I do, too. Love you, I mean."

Darcy smiled, eyes already drooping. "Good."

She felt him nod, and he squeezed her tightly once more. "Yeah, I think it is."

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, that was a Firefly reference Kate made as she was leaving. :D
> 
> The title is in reference to "Wuthering Heights," a gothic romance novel whose plot revolves around an overheard conversation and the resulting misunderstanding. This book makes me so angry, so _so_ angry, because GDI why won't you assholes just _talk to each other_?!?!?!! It's been more than 15 years since I first read it, and I'm still not over it. (I'll never be over it.)


End file.
